What has been Seen cannot be Unseen
by KissMeDeadlyT-T
Summary: Romano accidentally walks in on something he really didn't want to see but for some reason can't bring himself to look away. -Germany x Italy x Prussia, yaoi, LEMON, Romano creepin', language. Side Spamano


**KissMeDeadlyT-T: If anyone who reads this happens to have read anything else of mine, I just want to say that the reason I'm not updating is because MY LAPTOP IS A PIECE OF SHIT AND NO LONGER SUPPORTS MICROSOFT WORD WHICH IS WHAT EVERYTHING IS WRITTEN ON. Ugh, it's pissing me off. I wrote this on my phone. _**

**Anyways, about this fic, don't read it if you are against guys going at it. Especially since there are more than 2 in this fic. D: It's not as graphic as I usually write, but it's still not for little children's eyes. ^^"**

**I don't own APH.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

The sun was low in the sky and the clouds were fading to a bright reddish-orange by the time Romano walked into his and his brother's empty house, a long sigh of relief leaving his lips. After a long week of going to meetings across Europe, having to deal with his brother constantly squealing about the potato bastard's butt—for reasons Romano couldn't fathom—, listening to the bickering between all of the bigger nations like England and America and France, and being around the rest of the generally irritating and extremely annoying world, Romano was looking forward to some time alone to relax. Kicking off his shoes, he dropped his suitcase haphazardly near the door, making a mental promise to himself that he'd pick it up later, but right now, he needed to _eat_.

He flicked on the switch as he entered the kitchen, relieved to see a pot of pasta and a container with what looked like spaghetti sauce left near the stove. He wouldn't have to cook for himself, then. Veneziano must have made this.

He wondered vaguely if his brother was home from the meetings yet, or if he'd gone to one of his friends' houses, and peeked around the corner back to the front door. He spotted one of Veneziano's brown dress shoes poking out from the closet, so he must be home unless he'd gone out without shoes again.

That, or the idiot was in his room doing something for once, since the house was nearly dead quiet, only the faint hum of electricity and rumble of what sounded like thunder in the near distance filling the still air. Vaguely, Romano could hear the sound of talking from upstairs and supposed Veneziano was talking to someone on the phone, or maybe he had a friend over—hopefully _not_ Germany or someone else Romano didn't want to deal with right now. Again he checked the entrance for any shoes, but they seemed to be all in the closet and Romano was much too lazy to go and check. He didn't really care anyway.

He fixed himself a plate of spaghetti and heated it up in the microwave before sitting down at the dinner table to eat. Looking out the large bay window across from him at the red and orange sunset playing off the old stone and concrete of the Coliseum and coloring the dark gray clouds that were steadily approaching, he noted with a vague irritation that the talking was getting louder.

_Does Veneziano always have to be so damn noisy?_ He thought to himself in annoyance, trying to block it out. His phone buzzed in his pocket, catching his attention. Setting his fork down, he reached down to grab it, sliding his finger to unlock it and see a text from Spain asking if he'd gotten home safely. Romano felt a little tingle and couldn't help but smile a bit. Spain was the only reason he hadn't gone crazy during the past week, despite the fact that his overly-affectionate ways were _part_ of the reason Romano was so exhausted. He'd admit that he loved Spain, he loved him a lot (although he hated to say it), but the idiot was so _irritating_ sometimes. He realized he was still grinning like an idiot and flushed, hastily wiping it off of his face even though he knew he was alone. He responded with a quick, '_Yeah, and you'd know if you'd come with me, bastard'_ before setting his phone back on the table and starting to eat again.

A few seconds later it went off again, but he was hungry and ignored it until he was finished eating. After placing his plate in the sink he unlocked his phone and checked, rolling his eyes when he read the message.

'_Lo siento Lovi :( I had to make sure Francis got home, you saw how wasted he was.'_ Romano was about to reply when he received another: '_I can come over now if you want ;)'_

Romano flushed again. _'Fine. I'll be in my room but don't you dare try any funny business.'_

'_:( But it's been so long'_

'_Two days, Toni. You're not going to shrivel up and die.'_

'_I might. :C'_

'_Dammit, just come over and be normal'_

'_Can't promise anything :) I'll be there in 15, love you'_

'_Yeah yeah, love you too.'_ With that, Romano sighed and stood up, wincing when his back crackled and popped. He was so tired and exhausted it wasn't even funny. Maybe Spain would bring some churros or tomatoes and they could just sit on his bed and cuddle. Knowing Spain, it would probably turn into a spontaneous make out session... but Romano didn't mind that much. He flushed at his thoughts and immediately scolded himself for being a pervert. Everyone must be rubbing off on him. Shaking his head firmly, he puffed out his cheeks and started walking up the stairs.

Just as he was reaching the top step, he thought he heard something from Veneziano's room. It sounded muffled, like someone was being... strangled or gagged or something. He hesitated, but shrugged it off, deciding he'd imagined it. When he passed in front of the shut door, he heard it again; the muffled sound of someone whimpering desperately but trying to hide it. Romano's eyes narrowed, and suspicion made his heart rate pick up. Something was wrong. Then, he heard a familiar voice let out a low grunt, and his temper spiked. That was the potato bastard! And that was his brother whimpering! He pressed his ear to the door, listening hard. He heard his brother's voice sobbing something he couldn't quite understand and a third voice chuckling darkly. _Che palle! That disgusting potato eating bastard is in there with someone and they're torturing my brother! I'll kill them!_

He was about to throw open the door when he heard Veneziano cry out in what sounded like pain. He froze, his heart in his throat. This could be bad. He knew he couldn't take on Germany and someone else who sounded equally sick and sadistic as him all alone! _But they have Feli_. He had to _try._

He threw open the door, fists raised and mouth open to screech holy hell at the bastards torturing his brother but froze, catching sight of what was on the bed. For a second he tittered, his brain not quite registering what his eyes were seeing.

_What._

_No._

_Why._

_Oh God._ His eyes. They burned.

Romano hissed as if he' d been burnt and slapped a hand to his mouth to muffle his gasp, face turning dark red. Hazel eyes watering (he was unsure why, but in the back of his mind he supposed it was in horror), he tried to look away, _away_ from his little brother riding that _damned potato bastard's_ cock like he'd done it a million times, head thrown back in ecstasy and right hand covering his mouth as a flushed, messy-haired Germany plunged into him from behind. Romano's stomach did a strange jumping motion as the blond bit down hard into Italy's soft white neck and his breath started to come quicker when he realized Italy seemed to _like _the pain. His toes and fingers curled in on themselves and he cried out the most colourful Italian swears that weren't even in Romano's every day vocabulary.

What really took the cake (well, maybe not—this whole scene was like a giant cake of Romano's worst nightmares) was the albino man bobbing his head up and down between Veneziano's legs, clearly not minding when Italy's hips would buck up from the force up Germany's thrusts. Crimson eyes were dark and Romano could tell even from the distance he was at that every time Italy accidentally choked him, they turned even darker, silvery eyelashes fluttering. Romano felt slightly faint, the room becoming too hot and suffocating for him to handle.

Both of the potato bastards were fucking his brother.

And Italy was screaming in ecstasy.

And Romano couldn't look away.

And he was hard.

_Well, damn._

Romano didn't know how long he stood there nor did he know _why_ he stayed, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He knew it was wrong, oh god it was so wrong, but he couldn't stop staring at his brother's face contorted in bliss, his free hand reaching back and tangling in Germany's messy hair and_ tugging_. _When did little Feli grow up to become so... this?_ He didn't know his brother was capable of being like this. He didn't even want to look at Germany or Prussia because he _knew_ those fuckers were hot beyond belief and seeing them like this wasn't helping. He thought he was going to pass out when Italy let out a particularly high-pitched moan, he managed to finally snap out of it and run out of the room, shutting the door behind him quickly. He leaned against it, face red and eyes wide, shaking so hard he could barely stand up. His heart was hammering.

_Why. Oh my God, why, __**why**__ did I have to walk in?_

The image was burnt into his head. Even when he closed his eyes so tight that fireworks exploded under his eyelids, the image was _still there _damnit and it _wouldn't go away._ All he could see was his brother flushed in ecstasy, that damned albino freak sucking his dick like he _loved _it and that _fucking _potato bastard ruthlessly fucking the hell out of his innocent little brother.

_Or not so innocent_, Romano , Veneziano_ had _always taken after Grandpa Rome.

He heard Germany mutter something in German and the Italy sobbing unintelligibly, Prussia's vibrating chuckle creating a lewd background noise. Romano's pants felt much too tight and as much as his head was pounding in unwanted arousal, he couldn't bring himself to do anything but _listen_.

The nastier side of him wanted to open the door again, and watch; but he was way too embarrassed to do that, and was surprised they hadn't noticed him the first time. So he settled for listening, stomach curling heatedly when Italy's sobs turned into pleas, then a steady flow of screams and moans, and then—

Romano jerked away from the door when he heard the cry of his brother reaching his climax. Face like an oven, he let out the screech he'd been repressing the whole time into his hand. He barely heard the breathless groan and choked moan following this because he was sprinting down the stairs, grabbing his keys and barely slipping his shoes on before running out the door.

He ran into something very solid and a surprised, "Romano?" reached his flaming ears. With wide eyes, he looked up to see a worried looking Spain. The brunet put his hands on Romano's shoulders and asked, "Hey, are you okay? Where are you running off to?"

Romano gulped. "Toni, can we go to your place?" he asked, a begging undertone in his voice. Normally, he would never beg, but these were very dire circumstances.

"What?" Spain asked, sounding lost. "Why?"

Romano shook his head furiously, burying his face into the Spaniard's chest and trying to banish the image from his head. "_Please,_" he whispered. Spain straightened.

"Okay then." Without asking any more questions, he led a shaking Romano to his bright red car, helping him into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver's side. He turned to Romano. "What happened?" he asked, panic rising in his voice. "You _never _say please, I haven't heard you sound so desperate in over a century—what the hell happened, _querido_?"

Romano was still in such shock and arousal that he didn't even make a fuss about the nickname. He shut his eyes tight and groaned, "Veneziano."

"What about him?"

"H-he— with, with P-Pr—"

"Gil?"

Romano nodded and shakily went on, "And the potato b-bastard—Germany. They... they..." The images came back and he groaned, sinking low in his seat. He tried to press the palm of his hand into his erection in what looked like an accidental way, but if the darkening of Spain's eyes meant anything, he'd noticed and he knew. He didn't say anything, though, and Romano gruffly said, "Drive faster."

Spain did so, glancing over again. "What were they doing that got you so... that?"

Romano didn't answer, squirming uncomfortably. Realization dawned in Spain's eyes. "Ohh," he said. "Oh, I see. Were they having sex?"

"_Dio mio,_" Romano breathed. He fanned himself, trying to diminish the flush in his cheeks. "_Yes_, damnit and it was so fucking—fucking—goddamnit, it was so disturbing and I can't—I can't handle it, it was so _wrong_ and now I'll never be able to look at Veneziano the same, _ever."_

Spain let out a light laugh. "Aw, don't be so negative, Roma! Your little brother has a sex life, so what?"

"_So what_?" Romano repeated in disbelief. "I couldn't care less that he has a sex life, I just care that it—that it's with that fucking bastard, and it's _kinky_—"

"So is yours," Spain responded with a smirk. Romano stared at him, turning even darker red, then muttered something to himself. Spain chuckled and said, "You really don't seem disgusted so much as you sound like you _want_ to be disgusted."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I'm disgusted, that fucking—"

"Then why do you have an erection, hm?"

Romano did not have an answer for this and chose to ignore it. He shifted again in his seat, turning his head to look out the window, jaw set resolutely. Spain laughed again. "Don't worry, Romano, I can take care of it when we get to my house."

"Ugh, Toni!" Romano smacked his arm.

"It'll help you forget!"

"_Nothing _will help me forget."

"Is that a challenge?"

Romano looked over at him suspiciously. "What?"

Spain grinned. "I said, is that a challenge? I bet I can make you forget for a bit."

"I...Fine," Romano grumbled. He blushed. "You think too highly of yourself."

"You underestimate me."

"Bastard."

"Lovino."

"Fuck you."

"I love you."

"Fuck you."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Well, I once again could not come up with a proper ending because I didn't want to drag it on **_**too**_** long... I'm sorry if there were any bad grammar or spelling mistakes, my phone doesn't have spell check or anything and I tried my hardest to find them all but I might have missed some. **

**Please let me know what you thought but no flames please c: If you didn't like it just tell me why, don't be a douchedick. Also I had it pointed out to me that I wrote "Mio dio" instead of "dio mio"... derp derp. I knew that was wrong, too. I meant to write the first one but I fucked up. Oh well, I fixed it :P**

**On a side note, if I was Romano... I would have gotten out a video camera and sat in a corner and watched. :L **


End file.
